Forgotten Soldier
by Demonus Requiem
Summary: Finding out what's on the other side before he's died, Requiem finds himself stranded in a world far unlike his own, with the only clue being that there is someone like himself somewhere there as well. T early on for language violence and alcohal, M Later
1. New Beginnings

To Protect is to Never Betray... These words had been pounded into his head a countless number of times. Requiem shook his head, focusing on the task at hand. Retaking the task at hand, he returned to his usual stance, ready to begin again. He wasn't allowed the luxury of his thoughts anyway as he rolled to the side to avoid the blade that now occupied the space where his neck was just at. He lunged forward, striking out with the bladed gauntlet, only to have it blocked by his opponents sword. Hoping to outmaneuver him, Requiem pushed against the sword, with the intent of unbalancing the man behind it, only to find himself the one off balance. Off balance, his opponent quickly threw Requiem to the wall of the room where he remained, unmoving.

"You're getting better, Ryoka." The Captain of the 8th Squad said through a smile as he approached a table on the other side of the room from where Requiem was slowly picking himself up off the floor. He poured himself a drink and turned back to face him, "It's almost hard to believe that only three days ago I found you lying on the floor in this room, covered in blood."

Requiem shook his head, finally composed once again, "I'm a little surprised myself to tell you the truth, but I guess you could say that I had a good teacher." These words brought another wave of memories back to him, memories of his old life that he'd rather have forgotten most of. Not that they were all bad, no worse than others, he was sure, but all in all, he believed he'd still be better off without them. Slowly, he pulled himself off the wall and made his way over to the Captain and poured himself a drink as well, if only to wash away the memories. "Hey, Kyoraku?" He asked suddenly, "Why do you train me in hiding? Is my presence here that wrong?"

The Captain remained silent for several moments, sipping his alcohal as though he hadn't a worry in the world. "You know, since you learned the name of your Zanpakuto, you've never once hit me." He nodded thoughtfully, "So tell you what, if you can hit me, even just one time, with Zaigou, then I will bring you forward to the Head Captain." As easy going as the challenge sounded, there was a clear flash of a challenge in the Squad Captain's eyes, daring Requiem to step up to it.

"Well, not quite an explanation, but it'll do." Requiem responded, downing the last of his drink before returning yet again to his original position. He was tired of hiding for all of the other Shinigami, but more than that, he really just wanted to get out of that room. Slowly, the Captain too returned to his starting point. The battle was on, and a series of quick flashes and sparks illuminated the two opposing forces.

After several minutes of fighting that to Requiem seemed like hours, Requiem saw an opening and struck out for it. As soon as the blade touched his skin, Kyoraku let out a shout of intense pain, falling backwards onto the hardwood floor of the room as nineteen years of pain and suffering flooded his body at once. Requiem pulled the bladed gauntlet back, sealing it into it's sword-state quickly before rushing to the side of the old man. The wound didn't look too deep or anything, barely more than a scratch. Nervously, he reached down to help him up, to which Kyoraku waved him away, pulling himself up as the pain subsided. He looked at Requiem, smiling weakly. "That's... Quite a weapon you've got there" He managed to say, backing up to the wall and using it as a support. "Definately didn't expect that kind of result"

Requiem was more than concerned, "Captain, what happened? I barely scratched you!" He had absolutely no idea what Zaigou was capable of. When he'd first met the Zanpakuto, the form he saw was that of a shadow wrapped in a heavily torn cloak, blood seeping through the tears. It neither moved nor spoke. It did nothing but give an ominous feel to Requiem, who while he should have feared it, did not. He recognized it. It felt familiar, like an old friend he'd known for his whole life.  
>"I think I know your Zanpakuto's power, I'll say that much. It inflicts pain. Your pain to be more precise. All of it at once." He nodded, fully composed once again, the pain gone. It was a true surprise to feel how much the youth had suffered through. He'd heard him talk in his sleep, but he never expected the boys life to be that bad.<p>

Requiem looked down at the Falcata hanging at his side, not looking at the Captain. Of course he had no idea what the blade would do. He could have killed the Captain even. "Forgive me Kyoraku..." Was all he could manage to say.

"Relax Ryoka, I'm fine alright? Anyway, I made a promise to bring you in front of the Head Captain if you managed to hit me, didn't I? Well, I can't believe you actually hit me, but a promise is a promise. You will however, have to remain here until I can arrange for such a meeting." He smiled teasingly at Requiem who's only response was to let out a low grumble of annoyance.

"Fine... But hurry back, would you?" He mumbled, heading back over to the far wall and leaning against it.

"Calm down, it won't be that long my friend. Have a drink and relax, I'll be back when I can" He said before quickly leaving the room, and leaving Requiem to his thoughts.

He knew he had little else to do, so Requiem opted for fading out for a while. Leaning back onto the floor, he closed his eyes, and left the world he was in behind.

[i]"Req! We're headin' in! Try not to fall behind." A familiar voice called to him. Slowly he opened his eyes to register the sight of his friend, Seven, standing about halfway between himself and the building. "You're always late man! You're gonna miss out on all the fun, now c'mon!" The voice of his friend pulled him from his daze, and brought him back to the job.

"Ugh... Man, talk about killing my sleep. Alright, Alright, I'm coming already, sheesh!" He may have been the best marksman in the Grave unit, but he was also the laziest, constantly known for taking naps and his general lack of concern for the things around him. He looked over to Seven as he approached. He'd met Seven when he'd first joined Millenion, just a punk kid trying to find a way out of the world. Turns out he wasn't the only one. Since then, he and Seven had been pretty close. They partnered up any chance they got for missions. It was always better that way. Between his skill, and Seven's luck, they had never failed to complete a mission perfectly.

As he caught up with Seven, he managed to catch a glimpse of their boss. Brandon Heat. He wasn't much of a talker, but he was a good guy, and more loyal to the family than any person he'd ever met, possibly even more loyal than Big Daddy himself. He was a good man, the kind of guy one could only aspire to become like.

As was the way of the plan, Requiem split around to the back of the building and stepped inside. They'd been sent to put pressure on a banker that had been working with a rival gang. Requiem's job wasn't too difficult, all he had to do was make sure that nobody left that wasn't supposed to and to keep an eye out for reinforcements, and minimize their numbers should the arrive. [/i]

"Oi... Ryoka, get up."

It was a voice Requiem was most definately not accustomed to. It was rougher, more arrogant sounding. Opening his eyes, he looked up at the man who had spoken. He was a large man, overly so by normal standards, with rediculously spiky hair that appeared to have bells attatched to the ends. Behind him were two more people. A Bald guy, and a... He couldn't tell if it was a man or not.

"So you're awake, good. Get up, the Old Man wants to see you" He said gruffly, completely ignoring the fact that Requiem had just woken up.

"Alright, Alright, I'm getting up" Requiem grumbled pulling himself up off the floor and brushing himself off. He wasn't sure who 'The Old Man' was, but he didn't have much choice in the matter. He didn't really feel like fighting these guys. He doubted he'd be able to take them on anyway. "Alright, lead the way"


	2. The Old Man

In silence, the three led Requiem out of the building into the open air. It was nearing dark, the sun barely clinging to the horizon, painting the sky in deep oranges and reds. The wind picked up slightly, sending a chill down his spine. To break the silence, he spoke up, "Is there any particular way I should behave for this 'Old Man' of yours?"

"Only speak when spoken to, keep your answers short, be polite, I think that covers pretty much everything. Oh, and don't be fooled by how he looks. Call him Head Captain Yamamoto" The 'Pretty' One said. Definately a man's voice, despite how light and feminine it sounded.

Once again, silence. Requiem was really getting tired of being treated like a prisoner. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait much longer as the group arrived at the First Division Barracks minutes later. From there, they led him to Head Captain Yamamoto's Office and knocked on the door.

Though nobody could be seen on the other side, it opened smoothly and Requiem was directed in. Considering their jobs done, the group vacated the area, leaving Requiem standing awkwardly near the doorway while an aged man with a long white beard sat drinking tea.

"Come in" The man said, in a tone that though seemed friendly enough, carried the weight of an order. Requiem nodded and hurriedly moved to the center of the room. "It seems more and more or you Ryoka are showing up here, sit down."

Once more Requiem immediately obeyed the order. He couldn't place it, but something about the old man seemed familiar, calming, and yet it frightened him at the same time.

"We have had issues with your kind in the past. Still, it doesn't surprise me that Shunsui would keep you hidden. He claims you have some talent, he even went so far as to vouch for you, and requested you be permitted to join his division." The old man opened his eyes a small amount, looking Requiem in his "I will permit you to stay, provided you abide by the laws of the Seireitei. You will be trained, and when you finish your training, you will be tested to find your placement in Division Eight"

Requiem didn't know quite what to say. He was in shock. He had expected things to be much more difficult. He expected to be threatened, attacked possibly, but instead he was being welcomed. It was strange. "Um... Thank you Head Captain, sir" Requiem said quietly.

The Head Captain dismissed him, and Requiem stepped outside. As soon as the door closed behind him, he let out a heavy sigh, only to find Kyoraku and someone else he didn't know standing there "So Yama-jii accepted you, this is a reason to celebrate! Worry tomorrow!" the flamboyant Captain laughed.

Requiem looked over the two for a moment before nodding "Yeah, I could definately use a drink." He said smiling some before turning to the person he hadn't met, looking them over. They smiled lightly at him and "My name is Jushiro Ukitake, a pleasure to meet you."

Requiem bowed his head politely in response "The same to you" He said before realizing something "Oh man... I'm going to have to learn who everybody is here..."

Kyoraku laughed again "Relax, you'll figure it out eventually" He said leading the group back to the Division Eight Barracks.

One day and much celebratory drinking later, Requiem began preparing for his test. Learning the multitudes of Kido techniques, as well as practicing his basic combat skills. Kido wasn't exactly his best skill set, although he managed to get the basics down, and could after a few days of hard practice do some of them without incantations. His weapon combat skill however was of a much higher caliber, and he was shown as being quite capable with using his weapon in both it's sealed state as well as in it's shikai, although he preferred to not hit anybody with his shikai, for obvious reasons.

On the day of the test, Requiem was instructed to show his skill in Kido to accomplish a variety of tasks, which he accomplished with some small level of difficulty. Next he was given an actual paper test that gave him a set of situations, and asked for the best solution to deal with them. He had no trouble filling that one out though.

Before he had arrived at the Soul Society, he'd enjoyed studying strategies, learning the best ways to take advantage of the environment, and how to defeat the enemy with the most minimal of losses, in both force and resources.

The last test was one of Combat skill. Requiem waited nervously as everybody got settled. He already knew he'd done pretty badly on the Kido part of the tests. He didn't want to mess up again.

[i]"Easy now, take a deep breath, be patient. There's no rush. Just wait for the right moment." The man standing over him said quietly as Requiem led the rifle ahead of his target.

Typically speaking, killing big targets was frowned upon. You couldn't get anything from a dead man after all. Still, sometimes people just needed to die. This was one of those situations. Requiem lined up the shot, waited for his target to move into the the target space, and fired. A second and a half later, he watched the glass shatter and the rather portly man behind it fall to the ground, a single round embedded into his skull.

"Good, c'mon, lets get out of here. You did well. You passed. Welcome to the Grave Unit, Requiem." The man said, turning and walking towards the staircase. [/i]

Everything was set up, and Requiem found himself up on the state, looking acrossed at his opponent. [i]Take a deep breath[/i]. Requiem inhaled and exhaled deeply, calming himself. [i]Be Patient. There's no rush[/i].

"You may begin." Requiem heard the Vice-Captain of the First Squad Command, acting as referee for the match.

Once more, his gaze turned to his opponent. A tall man with Black hair, a serious face, and the number 69 under his left eye. Requiem noticed that the man kept his weapon sealed.  
>"Open The Gate Of Damnation, Zaigou" Requiem intoned quietly, the arched blade warping and twisting around his hand and up his arm. Wrapon raised and prepared, Requiem nodded. He only needed one good clean hit and the fight should be ended. All he needed was an opening.<p>

Requiem closed his eyes for a moment, listening, then raised his arm defensively above him, stopping the attack. Opening his eyes, he kicked off the ground, pushing his opponent back as he moved forward. Requiem lashed forward, retracted the blade quickly and then again pushed forward, hoping the misdirection of the first attack would leave his opponent open for the second.

The response he recieved however was a small gash running the length from his cheekbone to his ear. Requiem recoiled, swinging his arm back against the opposing blade, knocking it away. As he did this, he used the counterforce from hitting the blade to bring it back towards his opponent. This time he made progress, as he could feel the metal cutting through cloth.  
>Each strike one made, the other took in turn. Each fighter calculating their opponents moves. Flashing blades and the sound of steel hitting steel filled the air. Requiem had garnered a considerable number of gashes in his clothes and on his body. His opponent less so, though their clothing was left in tatters. Requiem could feel himself getting tired.<p>

One attack after another, Requiem was forced to take a defensive position to keep his feet. The sky was growing darker, and he could see the sun starting to sink down. How long had he been doing this? He couldn't remember.

Amid the thoughts he had, Requiem noticed an opening he had missed previously. Each time his opponent struck, the left a small space available. Requiem waited guarding until he saw it again. Quickly he swung out his arm, striking the exposed flesh, just as the opposing blade entered his body near his ribcage.

His opponent's response was immediate, falling to the ground, howling in pain. The last thing Requiem felt was the opposing weapon piercing his skin. Severely wounded, he likewise greeted the floor of the match, laying in his lightly pooling blood, the sword still rising up out of his body. The world turned dark.


End file.
